The Spirit of Humanity
by Kazlin
Summary: After decades of ponderous travel through space the UNSC Spirit of Fire stumbles across the drifting tomb of Humanities greatest hero. Within the ship they find the means of possibly making it home, but to get there they will have to make alliances that could upend the balance of power in the Galaxy and change everything the Council races thought true.
1. Chapter 1

Serena had powered down almost all of her higher systems, retaining only enough cognitive processes to keep watch on the ship's diagnostics. It was standard procedure for AIs, their own version of cryo sleep. The captain had given her the responsibility of watching over his crew as the cryogenic sleep preserved them through their long, slow, march through the stars. For twenty four years she had watched, almost dozing to keep her own mind preserved as she guided the crew of the UNSC Spirit of Fire. Serena was a second generation Smart AI, capable of thousands of separate processes at any moment. She could run the defense suites aboard the Spirit of Fire, coordinate data from multiple dirt side fire bases, hack enemy communications, all the while having a highly intellectual conversation with Doctor Allers in her science lab. But now, to maintain any semblance of sanity, she had limited herself. Limited to the point where she almost missed the message as it swept past the ship's communication arrays.

The message was garbled, incoherent from the distance it had covered. But underneath the static and white noise caused by the background radiation of space, she noted the familiarity of the repetitious signal that seemed to mirror her own. Her mind came to life as she analyzed and pulled apart the anomalous signal, searching for its origin. There it was, laying before her, a standard distress call. A standard _UNSC_ distress call that emanated from a nearby solar system. A distress call ment a ship, a ship meant a Shaw-Fujikawa translight drive, and a slip space engine meant a far faster means of travel than the monotonous pace of sub-FTL speeds. With a tweak of the engine's output she altered course, something easily rectified if this was nothing more than a fool's errand, to investigate the signal. She hoped, for not only her sake but that of the crews, that it was not in vain.

 _ **Approximately 8 hours later**_

 **Mayday Mayday Mayday- This is UNSC FFG201, Forward Unto Dawn requesting immediate evac. Survivors aboard - prioritization code Victor zero five dash three dash Sierra one one seven.**

Serena allowed herself a small smile, the tendrils of her synthetic mind unfurled to their full acting potential. After hours of travel the message had finally become clear. It had not been emanating _from_ the system so much as from a ship passing through the outer edge of the small solar system. She accessed the Spirit's sensor suites, micro-filament strands of wire heating up to break off the ice that had formed on the dormant systems throughout the outer hull of the former colony ship turned warship and fleet tender. The scanner made its run, picking up a small yellow sun orbited by five planets.

She brought up a map of the galaxy in her mind, plotting their course from the Forerunner Dyson sphere to their current location. They were still hundreds, if not thousands, of light years from the nearest human controlled space. She doubted that the Spirit's fusion engines and cryogenic sleep pods would last the centuries it would take to return to human territory without using Slip Space.

The Dawn would be coming into view in the next few minutes. It was time to wake the Captain.

Captain James Cutter fell to his knees as the Cryo pod opened. He gagged, his stomach reeling as it sought to expunge the nutrient fluids that had helped keep him alive.

"Relax, Captain." Serena's avatar rose from a pedestal near where he knelt. Her digital hair fell in long dark strands to the middle of her back. Her features could be described as Germanic with high cheekbones and a narrow chin all surrounding a straight nose situated below a high, intellectual, forehead. Another descriptor, perhaps a more accurate descriptor, would be the word _stern_.

James took the AI's advice, relaxing and letting his body do what needed to be done. He retched, expunging the vile tasting milky liquid. He blinked, his eyes blurry as he watched the bile seep into the drains that lined the front of the pods. He coughed, forcing up the last remnants before standing on shaking legs, "How long?" It was a simple question, but one that held a prominent place.

"It has been twenty four years, nine months, eighteen days and three hours since the crew entered Cryogenic sleep."

The fact that it had been almost twenty five years, the fact that most of the people he knew back before would either be dead or close to it settled on his shoulders like a heavy weight, "Serena, why did you wake me up? What happened?" He had informed the AI, before stepping into the pod, that he and the crew were to remain frozen except for emergencies or till either they arrived in UNSC space.

"Not an emergency, Captain, don't worry about that. But I may have found us a quicker way home. I've taken the liberty of waking the rest of the bridge crew, along with engineering and any other critical crew." Serena had a look of smug satisfaction on her face as James scowled, wiping what little bile stuck to the ends of his salt and pepper mustache with the back of his hand. She looked to Cutter's right as more of the pods opened, spilling their occupants onto the deck in the same unceremonious fashion as their captain.

"What do you mean?" He had always hated the moments after leaving the Freezer, as it always left his brain feeling slow and muddled as it tried to warm up with the rest of his body. He watched his XO, Lieutenant Hannah Shepard, tumble from her pod, her jet black hair pulled back in a regulation ponytail.

"A distress signal, UNSC. It's definitely a ship, and if it has a working Slip Space drive..."

"Then we have a way home. Alright, Serena, anything else?" He had stepped to the side to help Shepard to her feet as the woman struggled to stand.

"Isn't there always? It can wait till you're on the bridge, Captain." Serena folded her arms behind her back, giving off the air of a matriarchal teacher dealing with an inquisitive student before her avatar winked out.

James shook his head at the AI before turning to his exec, "Lieutenant, get the crew ready and have them man their posts. Have Serena sound General Quarters in thirty minutes."

She nodded a few times, hands on her hips as she took deep breaths, before answering, "Yes, sir. GQ in thirty." She looked at him, her eyes black pools that shown from a narrow face was a hue of reddish brown with features that bespoke of a mixed ancestry, like many humans. She stood straight and snapped off a crisp salute before turning to find her NCO's and division heads.

Twenty five minutes later he found himself on the ship's bridge, showered, shaved, dressed in a fresh uniform and a cup of strong, albeit nasty tasting, coffee in hand. He observed the bridge crew as they went about their duties, running diagnostics and other check on systems both critical and non to ensure that nothing had broken down during their long sleep.

He was always impressed by his bridge crew's ability to leap back into action, no matter how long they spent in Cryo. He sipped from the mug, wishing some of the artificial sweeteners had survived on board as he grimaced. Those had been lost, 'acquired' by the Huragok they had brought on board. Over the next few minutes he glanced at his watch as it ticked off the seconds. As it's digital face hit zero the ship was filled with the blaring General Quarters alarm. He kept his eyes on his watch as he listened for the reports of the various divisions reporting in as Lieutenant Shepard relayed them to him.

"Bridge, reporting in.

Engineering, reporting in.

Gun crews reporting in.

Damage control teams, reporting in.

Mess teams, reporting in.

Marine detail, reporting in.

All awakened sections reporting in, Skipper."

James nodded as he watched the time, not bad, considering how long they had been on ice, "Any issues, XO?"

"She's running tight, sir." Shepard, who had pulled her hair up into a bun, smoothed out a crease in her uniform.

He nodded, "Alright. Serena, play me that distress signal." He sipped the coffee as he listened to the message play over the bridge speakers. He looked over to Shepard when he heard her speak, asking Serena a question.

"What kind of prioritization code is that?"

"Spartan. I don't know which one, as I don't have access to the UNSC code systems at the moment." Serena's avatar stood on a centrally mounted pedestal, "Such codes _are_ highly classified."

"We don't need code books to figure this one out. XO, get Red One up here. If anyone will know who this Spartan is, it'll be a Spartan."

Shepard nodded before turning to the ship's internal communication system. Her voice boomed out over the speakers, "Petty Officer Sierra-092, report to the bridge. I say again, Petty Officer Sierra-092 report to the bridge, as soon as possible."

* * *

 **Jerome-092 marched up to the Spirit's bridge with his helmet tucked under his arm, allowing the ships lighting to reflect off his dark skin. He came to a halt before captain Cutter and gave a crisp salute.**

"Reporting as ordered, Sir."

Cutter returned the salute and waved the Spartan forward, and directing Serina to replay the message, "Do you recognize that ID code?"

He watched as the Spartan nodded his head before answering.

"Yes, sir. That would be Sierra-117, the code is normally used for high priority messages." Jerome paused, his eyes flicking between the captain and the holographic image of the wrecked ship that sat before them. "I'm guessing this is a rescue mission?"

Cutter clasped his hands behind his back, "Recovery would be more accurate. Red team's mission will be to board the Dawn and recover that Spartan. After that you will assist the Marine engineering teams in recovering the Shaw-Fujikawa drive and any other weapons and technology we can scrounge up. List will be with the engineering detail, so try to keep our new friend out of trouble."

Lists Heavily to the Right, or List, was one of nearly a half dozen Huragok Engineers that had been brought on board the Spirit while the ship fought inside the Dyson Sphere. Hell, Jerome thought, brought wasn't even the right word. Rescued was more like it, as they had found the creatures in a Covenant camp where they had been attempting to rig explosive vests to the creatures.

"List and the others survived the trip, sir?"

Cutter grunted, running his fingers along his mustache, "Did more than just survive. They've been fixing and improving the ship as we were on ice. Also made a few more of themselves, from the looks of it."

"Sir! Target is coming into view now." Came the call from one of the bridge's sensor operators.

Cutter turned, facing the observation window. In the distance, standing out against the inky black of the void was a small pinpoint of light. As he waited and watched, it slowly grew in size till it was clearly visible.

"What the Hell happened here."

The ship before them had been cut in half, as if some giant being had torn it apart like a chicken wing so all that was left was the aft of the ship floating in the void. What little momentum the derelict had let the ship spin slightly, the matte white crest of the UNSC highlighted against the ship gray battleplate. Cutter began barking orders for scans before hr swiftly turned, facing the Spartan, "Get your team ready, Petty Officer."

Jerome nodded, saluted once again and turned on his heel. The last thing he heard was the communications officer reporting that there were no response to hails from the ship.

Jerome made his way through the Spirit's halls to the secondary armory, where he found the rest of his fireteam. Alice-130 and Douglas-042 looked up from their seats on the reinforced benches, both, like Jerome were in their armor, their helmets at their side, as to be ready at a moments notice. Alice spoke first, asking a simple one worded question.

"Mission?"

"Mission." Was Jerome's response as he waved them over to a small pedestal that stood in a corner of the room. He pressed a button and the holographic image of the Dawn spring up before them. "We are to board the Dawn, recover a Tier 1 asset, and then assist the engineers in seeing if it's slipspace drive is still operable."

Douglass shrugged his shoulders, "Really, sending Spartans on a recovery mission? The captain can't be expecting any sort of resistance, could he?" He kept his eyes on the holographic wreck.

"Depends on what this asset is. Did Cutter mention…?" Alice let the question hang in the air as she turned her gaze from Douglas to Jerome.

Jerome nodded, and smiled, "Aye, he did. John is on that ship." He watched as smiles creeped across Alice and Douglas's faces.

"John… well, he was always lucky." Alice turned to look at the hologram, joining Douglas in his study of the ship.

"It looks like someone took an energy sword to it."

Jerome nodded slowly, "Never seen damage like that to a ship before. What's more worrying is that the front half of the ship isn't anywhere in system." He watched the other two Spartans chew on that, Alice quite literally as she worked her jaw in thought.

"Slipspace failure? No, if the engine blew it would have taken the aft of the ship, not the fore."

"The engineering computer should have records of what happened. We'll take three birds, one for us, one for the engineers, and one for overwatch and recovery." Jerome reached forward and rotated the holographic layout of the ship. "The engineering team will board via the Universal Docking Ring and make their way to engineering. We'll land and breach here," He pointed at the top of the ship, next to where scans placed a Havoc launch site, "and make our way through to the cryo bays. Once we have our assets secured we'll meet up with the other team and assist them in completing the mission."

"Assist them? How, by picking heavy things up and putting them down?" Alice questioned, putting on her worst impression of their fellow Spartan Jorge-052.

Jerome let out an amused chuckle, "Babysitting. The captain doesn't entirely trust those gas bags. We don't know enough about them, so he wants us to keep an eye on them. Also, yes, we may have to pick up heavy things and put them down or breach a bulkhead or two. Any other questions?" With a silent shaking of heads from the other two Spartans Jerome took his helmet in hand and pulled it over his head.

"Let's go get our boy."


	2. Unexpected Guests

**I posted the first chapter the night before I left on vacation for 10 days. Needless to say, I was blown away by the response to this story in that time. So thanks for that everyone.**

 **Anyways, it's D-Day, so once more into the breach.**

* * *

The trio of Pelicans flew in a loose formation as the traveled the few dozen kilometers between the Spirit and the Dawn, splitting off to their designated landing zones as they made a pass along the side of the ship. Sensor scans from the Spirit had detected only a small amount of power being generated in the ship's fusion core, with almost all of it being directed to what they could only assume to be the cryo bay.

The pelican holding Jerome and his Spartans began to decelerate as it came over the top of the ship, thrusters and engines working together to bring the drop ship level with the deck as the pilot scanned the area before lowering the craft. As the Pelican settled down just off the deck, Jerome stood from his crash seat, Alice and Douglas standing as well, each grabbing their long arms off the storage racks that lined the walls above the seats and netting.

Jerome pumped the action of his M90 shotgun, loading a shell into the breach, Alice and Douglas both sported MA5B rifles with 60 round magazines locked in as they took up position at the rear of the cabin. The signal light next to the ramp blinked from red to green, a loud hiss of escaping air preceded the ramp opening. Jerome stood at the top and turned to his team. "Mag boots on. As far as the Spirit can tell, the Dawn is transmitting but she can't respond. Either no one is left alive, or her comm dish is damaged. We'll route all communications through 5-2. Understood?" A set of green dots signaled the teams acknowledgment. They stepped off the ramp and onto the deck, their boots keeping them from floating off as they made their way aft, where the pilots scan had sighted an airlock door.

No orders had to be given as each scanned their zones, the trio moving quickly to the door. No other ships were in the area, no Covenant, no Insurrectionists. But as Spartans, they preferred to take precautions rather than be caught flat footed. Even in Zero G they moved with a smooth fluidity that gave the Spartans a sense of speed as they crossed the open area of the launch site. Next to the door Alice paused, looking over the weapon rack attached to the hull next to it. She reached out and plucked a rifle from the rack, turning it in her hands.

"Well, this is new. Jerome, catch!"

She tossed the rifle, letting it glide over to the other Spartan who caught it one handed. The rifle's barrel extended out from the black and grey colored receiver, a small optical scope sat on top of a carrying handle. Jerome looked at the side of the lower receiver at the nomenclature stamped into the metal.

 _ **BR55HB**_

 _ **9.5mm x 40mm Kurz**_

 _ **Misriah Armory**_

He flicked the selector switch off safe to semi and then to it's burst setting before placing it back on safe and attaching the rifle to the magnetic strips on the back of his armor. "We'll pass this off to the Plant, give the gun monkeys in the armory something new to play with."

With that he faced the bulkhead door and pressed his thumb against the switch, only to be greeted by a disappointing lack of action. With a blink of his eyes he activated his suits radio, "Red 1 to Bravo 1."

Bravo's team leader, a Marine Lieutenant in charge of the engineering team responded, " **Red 1, this is Bravo 1, send it.** "

"Sir, we are a no-go at our breach point, there is no power in this section. Has your team made it to engineering?"

" **Affirmative, Red 1. We're setting up to pull the drive now.** "

"Sir, get the engineers to boost power in the reactor and get power back to the ship."

" **Will do, Red 1. Current power flow is directed three decks below you, should be where the cryo tubes are. Bravo 1 out.** "

The three Spartans waited, as still as statues as they waited. Barely a few minutes had passed when the flickering of exterior lights caught their attention. Jerome keyed the door once more, with the panels retreating into the bulkhead. Jerome took point, his shotgun pointed down the gently curving hall as the door closed behind them and the hallway hissed as air was pumped in from the vents. He keyed his radio once again, alerting Bravo that they were inside the ship. They moved through empty halls, following the signs leading to their objective, noting where the weapon racks and stacks of crates were for the eventual salvage teams, to recover.

They had been moving through the ships passages for nearly 10 minutes until they reached an opening in the bulkhead where the doors to the frigate's freight elevator once stood, now an empty gaping chasm. Jerome looked over the edge, "Anyone bring any rope?"

Douglas grunted, "Very funny." As he turned around, allowing Alice to access the pack on his back and draw out a trio of cables and magnetic pins. She paused before she reached again into the pack for another set of cable and pins. The cables, specially made by weaving genetically altered spider silk with micro-filament strands of steel, were strong enough to support the weight of a Spartan in their MJOLNIR armor. The cables were slid through connector points on the armor, the magnetic pins clamped to the deck as the three jumped back into the shaft, rappelling down the last decks.

As they came to a stop opposite the closed elevator doors, one hand gripping the tether the other finding finger holds amongst the piping that lined the shaft walls, Alice and Jerome lept. They landed on either side, gantleted fingers digging hand holds into the steel. Jerome reached out, fingers digging into the crease of the door, and pulling. Metal screeched on metal as the frozen gears protested until the Spartan had pulled the half door back to its stopping point. With a nod Alice swung into the hall beyond the door. With her feet planted and both hands available, she pulled the other side of the door into its slot. She held it there as Douglas jumped, his mag boots clamping him to the deck. He turned and reached out a hand to help his fellow Spartan up onto the deck. The gears of the elevator doors ground and stuck open as they unhooked their armor from the lines and pinned them to the deck along with the spare. With a crackle Jerome's radio came to life,

" **Red 1, this is Spirit actual. An Unknown contact just got pinged and is approaching our location. Estimate they'll be here in under 5 minutes. Complete your mission and exfil to the Pelicans. We're maneuvering to cover the Dawn. Over.** "

"Spirit actual, this is Red 1. We copy that. Red 1 out. Red team, double time!" More hallways, stairs, and rooms filled with floating supplies followed as they moved deeper into the ship.

They descended down a wide flight of stairs into a room bathed in the orange-yellow glow of a holographic table at its center that flicked between a damage assessment of the Dawn and its path through the stars. Jerome stepped into the room, snapping his shotgun up to his shoulder, scanning for any hostile that his motion scanner may have missed. The words of Chief Petty Officer Mendez floated through his head, 'Equipment breaks, or can be spoofed. Your eyes and instincts can't.'

Jerome tagged an open door on their left on the team's HUD and without a word the other two Spartans took up position on either side of the door, weapons at the ready as Jerome stepped through and into the cryo chamber. He swept his shotgun along the walls, settling it over the pedestal that sat off to the side at the back of the room as his fellow Spartans filled the room behind him. Atop the pedestal laid an AI in the form of a woman, naked except for lines of code running down digital lines the length of her form. A short cropping of chin length dark hair framed a strangely familiar face as the AI looked up at them in apparent wonder.

"Spartans? The UNSC found us? You're here to rescue us?" She asked, standing up, a look of hope on her face.

Jerome, stepped forward, lowering his shotgun. "Cortana?" He paused and when the AI nodded he continued. "We received your SOS. We're from the UNSC Spirit of Fire and we're here to get you and 117 out of here. We need to hurry, just received word that an unknown ship is inbound and will be here any minute."

"Covenant?" Cortana asked as she paced around the top of the pedestal.

"Unknown, but we need to move ASAP." Alice said over her shoulder as she turned to cover the doorway, just in case.

Cortana nodded and turned to the cryo tube to the left of her pedestal, "John. Wake up."

Jerome wasn't sure how he had missed the frost covering the inside of the pod that showed it to be active. As the pod thawed they all turned to face it, human and AI alike watched the ice peel away to reveal the gold visored helmet of a Spartan. With a hiss of pressurized air the door to the pod swung open and John-117 stepped out onto the deck. To Jerome, Alice, and Douglas it had not been all that long since they had last seen John. A few months at the most, maybe a year. To him, it had been an eternity. Looking at his fellow Spartans, his family, raised his hand to his helmet and traced a Spartan smile with his fingers, softly saying "It's good to see you again."

Jerome, Alice, and Douglas mimicked the gesture but underneath their armor each was surprised. John's voice, while still being John's was… old. Roughened and weathered, it spoke of a thousand battles. A thousand battles they had missed, asleep in the cryo chamber aboard the Spirit. His armor mimicked his voice, battleworn and roughened, a large plasma burn covered his right pectoral armor plate. It was Alice who responded first, "You too, Petty Officer."

"Master Chief Petty Officer." John corrected to various responses from his fellow Spartans.

"What?"

"Seriously?"

"Has the UNSC gone daft while we were away?"

Cortana coughed to get their attention, "I hate to cut this reunion short, but shouldn't we be worried about the unknown ship heading our way?"

"Right, Chief, take this." Jerome passed John the BR55HB and spar mags that came with it. "It'll take too long to get back to our breech point. The unknown will be here by then." He asked, turning back the way they had come.

"What's the situation?" Chief asked as he grab the weapon, bringing the butt of the rifle to his shoulder.

"Our ship, the Spirit of Fire, is on station. However we have an unknown contact approaching and we need to exfil ASAP. Any ideas, anyone?" Jerome explained, looking to his other Spartans.

"The Observation room we passed on the way here. I brought plenty of C-12, so lift the curtains, blow the glass and board the Pelican there." Douglas patted the strap of his pack with a gauntleted hand.

"Sounds like a plan. Spirit Actual, this is Red 1. Objective complete, assets are mobile. Pelican 5-2, this is Red 1, move to marked position for pick up. Chief, grab Cortana and let's double time it."

Chief blinked his acknowledgment light green and reached down to pull Cortana, ignoring her barely audible "Finally" before he slotted her chip into the back of his helmet. The all too familiar sensation of cold liquid filled his skull. Without a word the four sped off through the ship, making their way to the shaft in a matter of seconds. Each clipped to their line made a quick ascent as the climbed back up and made their way into the observation room.

While Douglas moved to place the explosive charges the Chief checked his equipment, running a functions check on the battle rifle before returning it to his back. On his right thigh magnetic holster sat a M6G PDW handgun, the mainstay sidearm of the UNSC for decades. Marines had joked for years that the M6 was either the galaxies largest handgun, or its smallest rifle due to its power and effectiveness at medium ranges. Like the rifle on his back he performed a functions check, making sure that the weapon would cycle before returning it to its holster. The fingers of his left hand brushed against the handle of alien metal that sat on his left thigh. His thoughts began to drift back to the Ark, fighting alongside the Arbiter and his Elites against both the Covenant and the Flood, and then their escape. However, he was quickly brought back to the present by Douglas telling them to get into cover.

He stepped behind the wall on the lower level of the deck, standing with the others. A moment later Douglas triggered the charge, blasting out the window in a shatter of glass that bloomed out into a blossoming flower in the zero gravity of space. They unlocked their mag boots and pushed off towards the window as the Pelican dropped into view, it's ramp down and waiting. As they landed inside, the Chief listened to Jerome getting on the radio.

"Spirit Actual, this is Red 1. We're on 5-2 and awaiting orders."

" **Copy that, Red 1. Standby for orders**."

* * *

 **[Aboard the Spirit of Fire]**

"Tell me about this contact, Ensign." Captain Cutter leaned over the back of the sensor officers chair, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. The Spirit had taken up position between the Dawn and where they believed the Unknown would appear, leaving a distance of nearly 100,000 kilometers between the two UNSC ships.

"Sir, we picked it up on the long range radar. It's not traveling in Slipspace, sir, it's… traveling at FTL in real space." The last few words came out in a disbelieving whisper. This was impossible, traveling faster than light in real space violated the law of relativity. It could be circumvented, as Humans and the Covenant did with Slipspace, but you couldn't just go through it.

Doctor Ellen Anders hologram stood upon the central table. She scoffed, "That's impossible, Ensign, unless you are suggesting that these unknowns have developed a technology that can reduce an object's mass?"

"Shouldn't you be overseeing the Engineer's refit and installation of the Drive, doctor Allers?" Cutter looked over his shoulder at the hologram.

Allers waved a hand, "The Huragok can do in seconds what would take us days or weeks to do. I'll let you know when they're done. You know, we really could have used some help on the Dawn. These engines aren't exactly light, even in Zero G."

"And yet, you got the job done. Keep me apprised of the install progress, I'd like to be able to jump to Slipspace if needed."

Cutter turned away back to his central station as Allers' hologram was replaced by the space surrounding the Spirit and where Serena predicted the Unknown would appear. Running his fingers through his mustache as he watched the unknown ship approach in real time via the sensors readings. After a few moments he spoke, "Bring us up to readiness condition 2, start charging the MACs and prep Archer missile pods Alpha through Charlie." Alarms began to blare throughout the bridge as they waited for the unknown ship to arrive.

The Spirit had rotated on its X axis bringing the front of the ship, and therefore the Magnetically Accelerated Cannon that made up the main armament of the ship, to point where they believed their target would appear. While the Spirit sat at two and a half kilometers long, making it one of the largest ships in the UNSC navy, it had originally started its life as a Phoenix class colony ship. The missile pods, side mounted coil guns, and MACs had all been taken from decommissioned destroyers and made to fit on the colony ship turned assault carrier. While underpowered for a ship of her size, it was made up for by the fact that she carried not one barrel, but three allowing for the rapid follow up shots needed to break through Covenant shields and kill the ships. Within her holds she held thousands of Marines, Soldiers, and ODSTs, along with hundreds of tanks, Warthogs, and everything needed to land an assault force on a planet. She was Humanities answer to the Covenant Assault Cruiser, albeit half the size and nowhere near as destructive as the 5 kilometer long Covenant ships.

Fifty thousand kilometers away their target appeared. There was no Slipspace bubble, no flash of light, nothing besides it's sudden appearance that announced its presence. The ship was, by UNSC standards, positively tiny at barely 200 meters long. A pair of wings swept back from the long thin body. The ship hung there for a moment, as if surprised to find the 2.5 kilometer ship there and facing it.

"Give me a scan of that ship." Cutter ordered, his eyes locked on the image of said ship. It looked worn and under-cared for. The digitally enhanced image showed long streaks of carbon scoring and faded paint, and at the front he could just make out the barrel of a small caliber spinal gun.

"Scan complete, sir. Getting some strange gravitational readings from the… Sir! Unknown ship is charging weapons! They're firing!"

There wasn't even time for the captain to give an order before the round impacted, sending a shudder through the ship. "Status!" Cutter shouted as he tried to regain his balance.

"Sir, armor is holding! Caliber was small, but hyper velocity!" Shouted one of the bridge crew.

"Return fire, launch Archer missiles Alpha through Charlie!"

Each Archer missile pod held 26 missiles, and with a puff of condensed air three pods launched their payloads.

The unknown ship started accelerating towards the Spirit, firing its main gun again even as the missiles streaked towards it. The second shot, unlike the first, struck at an angle, ricocheting off the slanted armor plating of the Spirit. At the same time the missiles had crossed the expanse of space and neared the unknown attacker. As they did lasers flashed to life, destroying dozens of missiles before they could strike. Even so, the UNSC strategy of using missile storms paid off as nearly a third of the remaining missiles exploded against a shimmer of blue shielding.

Cutter cursed, ' _Damn it, does every alien species have shields?_ ' He thought as the alien ship closed the distance between them. The Damn thing was small and not very powerful, but it was fast. He watched its path, one that would bring it along the Spirits port side and keep it out of the main firing line of the Spirit. ' _What are you trying to do?_ ' As soon as the question formed in his mind he realised the answer. "They're going for the engines! Charge the port side coil guns, link them to Serena. Serena, fire when ready."

The AI confirmed the command and diverted power to the 11 small guns that lined each side of the ship. The coil guns, while similar in idea to the larger MACs, were nowhere near as powerful. Granted, they could pierce the armor of an unshielded Covenant cruiser, but they lacked both the size and velocity of their larger cousins to do any significant damage to Covenant shields. The Unknown sped along their port side about 20,000 kilometers distance and turned on its axis, presenting its broader 'Top' as it prepared to arc around for its attack run on the Spirits engines. "Firing!" The lights on the bridge flickered for a moment as the Spirit launched its broadside attack. The shots lanced out, 11 streaks of blue cut through the Black with an accuracy only possible through an AI. The first five shots bounced off the blue shield of the Unknown, battering it. The sixth shot hit the blue shield and the bridge crew gave a cheer as the round shattered the shield. The round continued on and punched through the rear of the ship, near the engines. The other five rounds peppered the small ship between the engines and midsection, some of the rounds passing clear through the small ship while others lodged themselves in the ships interior. The Unknown tumbled backwards from the repeated impacts before slowing to a drift as the thrust from the engines died and fires blossomed into life before quickly being snuffed out from a lack of oxygen.

"Target disabled, captain. Their shields were markedly weaker than Covenant shields."

"Good shooting, Serena." Cutter walked forward as the Spirit slowly turned to face the now disabled ship, not willing to take the risk that it was playing possum. Up close the ship looked to be in even worse shape. Patches of metal could be seen to have been wielded on. It didn't look like any vessel a military would sail. No disciplined commander would dare let their ship fall into such a ruinous state. He kept staring at the ship. Why had they attacked? Did they believe that their speed would give them victory? He needed answers.

"Connect me with 5-2. Red 1, this is Spirit actual. I have a mission for you."


	3. The more things change

**Axccel: Because Archer missiles are still missiles and even in space still abide by square-cube law for fuel consumption. Armoring them outside of a fiberglass or aluminum shell would make them heavier, and thereby increase the amount of fuel needed, which increases weight, which increases the amount of fuel needed, ect. Laser batteries would be the most effective means of stopping the missiles before they reach the shield., which is why everyone makes them effective against Archers.**

 **Granet: Considering the sheer size of a Scarab, combined with the fact that it's a massive Legekko colony that would probably not be very happy sleeping for nearly 30 years in the confined space of the SOF. The only place for it would be hanging on the outside of the ship. As far as I know, you don't even see it in the HW2, so I'd say canonically, it didn't get taken with the ship.**

 **7: I was going off of what I could find on the Halowiki. Also I wanted to depict what you'd see in those old WWII videos of Naval ships going all out with the smaller caliber guns.**

 **Now onto the story.**

* * *

" **Board that ship and get whatever information you can. Who are these people, navigational data, any technology you can find. If there are survivors, attempt capture**."

"Affirmative, Spirit actual." Jerome stood off to one side of the Pelican, listening in on the radio as Douglas and Alice spoke to John. He caught snippets of their conversation, mostly catching up on missions, which were many from the sounds if it, and how John came into possession of an AI. John was quiet at that part, and gave a simple promise to tell them later after they were off the Dawn. Jerome smiled under his helmet as he heard Alice say, "An AI of your own, huh? You always were mom's favorite."

"Alice…" John's voice had an unmistakable gravel to it.

"What?" She asked innocently. They all had memories of that first few weeks of Boot, when certain rules had been laid down. "I know, I know. Chief Petty Officer Mendez is not to be referred to as 'Dad', Doctor Halsey is not to be referred to as 'Mom', Déjà is not 'the Fun Aunt'. You used to have a sense of humor, you know."

"Oh, he still does. You should ask him about what women like." Came the very feminine voice of Cortana from the speakers of John's helmet.

John could almost imagine Alice's eyes narrowing in mischief as she asked, "So, John, what _do_ women like?"

"That's enough of that, everyone." Jerome turned to face the other Spartans, "We have a go on boarding the Unknown. John, you're sure that AI of yours can get into their systems?"

"If it's electronic, Cortana can break into it." Chief was confident about Cortana's abilities after watching her crack both Covenant and Forerunner computer systems on the Rings and the Ark. He was certain that these new aliens computer systems wouldn't give her much trouble.

Jerome gave a nod before he paused, "John - Chief. You outrank all of us, it would be wrong to order you around. The mission is yours." Jerome and the others were all Senior Petty Officers, far below John in rank.

Chief wasn't surprised. The Spartans were military to the core, and the chain of command had to be respected. Still… "Are you sure? It's your squad."

"That's why I trust you not to get us killed doing something Damn Foolish." Jerome said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"I'll try." With that Chief stepped to the rear of the compartment and slid open the door to the pilots cabin, "Take us to the Unknown and see if you can find us an entry point."

"Roger that, Master Chief."

The Pelican rose from its relatively protective spot amongst the detritus that floated around the Dawn and cruised towards the disabled craft. As the Pelican neared the ship there was a tension in the air. If the ships battery of laser weapons were still active then they would be destroyed before they could do anything, but their luck seemed to hold as they completed their approach. The pilot made a pass over the ship before settling it a few meters off the deck, just above one of the holes made by the Spirit's coil guns. John took his place at the top of the ramp and stepped down, dropping onto the deck of the strange ship. Three thumps indicated the rest of the team had joined him as he made his way to the nearest hole.

Chief and Red Team took position around the 2 meter wide hole as the Chief knelt down, bringing his rifle up with one hand while lowering himself head first through the hole with the other. A set of blinks activated thermals, which all came up cold against the cold of space except for a hot spot towards the aft of the ship, which must be the engine. He did another series of blinks and his helmet mounted lights snapped on as he scanned the room.

Debris and bodies floated in the lack of gravity, red emergency lights bathed the room and at the edge of the light the Chief could see more bodies strapped into chairs; crewmembers dead at their station. Just below him was a raised central platform, now destroyed by the round that had punctured the thin armor of the ship. "Clear." He pushed off with his hand, floating "down" to the deck. He tucked his body, flipping himself so his feet faced down and activated his mag boots, securing himself. He keep his rifle up as the others completed the same move, weapons ready as they scanned for any surviving threats. "Jerome, take Douglas and clear the rest of the ship. Radio if you need assistance." A pair of green lights blinked on his HUD before the two moved towards the aft of the ship with weapons raised.

"Get me to a working terminal. I need to find something to start a language decipher." Cortana said to Chief as he walked towards the terminals. He stood at an empty terminal and reached his hand out, letting Cortana 'Jump' into the system. "They call this counter-intrusion software? Please, the Covenant have tougher systems. Give me a sec, I need to build the language first."

While he waited Chief looked at the body strapped into the chair in the next terminal. The being was bipedal, with legs much like a humans. It had a squat torso and a large head from which two sets of eyes stared, unblinking and bulging in frozen death above a mouth full of needle sharp teeth. The head would make an easy target for a marksman. As he looked around, all of the crew seemed to be made up of this species. Cortana's voice popped into his head again, "I can only get a partially working translation from this system. Looks like there are multiple language options, each very different from the next. This system is pretty specialised and only seems good for scanning, so see if you can find a personal datapad or something. An encyclopedia would be perfect."

"What makes you think we'll find anything of the sort here?" Chief asked as he grabbed a passing pad, watching it power up at his touch.

"Call it a hunch. Now let me work." Cortana sorted through the pad. This was exactly what she was looking for: A personal datapad. First things first, she had to know what she was reading. She took the program she had started in the terminal and went searching. It didn't take long for her to find a setting to change languages where there were several options. Good. Now she just needed something comparable… The Spirit of Fire. She hopped back into the terminal and pulled up the last recorded scans made. The ship had done a scan, undetectable by the Spirit of Fire, when it had shown up, taking in ship measurements and other readings. Now that she had that she began to compare the measurements between the different languages until she had built a working translation. She started with numbers, finding that this species used the same base 10 system as Humanity, another stroke of luck. With that she could find width, height, presumed mass, all in less than a fraction of a second. "Done. Take the pad with you, I was right, it has some sort of encyclopedia on it."

"Can you tell what species attacked us?" Chief asked as Red team spread out, checking bodies.

"Hold on. Point that one's face at your helmet. Scanning… They're called Batarians. A minor species of something called 'The Council'."

"The Council? This another Covenant?"

"Did you just say another Covenant? Great, that's exactly what we needed." Alice pushed one of the floating Batarians out of the way. "What do we got, Chief?"

Cortana's voice came through the teams radios, "Looks like these guys are a secondary member species of the Citadel Council, if this 'Codex' is to be believed, but I'm still translating. It's ruled by three species and controls little less than half the galactic territory that they've mapped out."

"And how much is that?" Douglas asked over the radio.

"About one percent of the Galaxy. According to this they various species are spread out, but concentrated in a way that is almost like… hmm." Cortana was quiet. Chief didn't like it when Cortana was quiet. It meant that she found something that was going to be trouble.

"Cortana?"

"Huh? I found something interesting, Chief, but I won't know more until I get more of this Codex translated. There's _terabytes_ of data to sift through. Now, we were here for navigational data, weren't we?"

The Chief pocketed the pad, finding that, when powered off, folded down to fit quite neatly in an empty magazine pouch."Alice, on me. The helm should be forwards." Chief raised his rifle and moved down the hall with Alice at his back, her MA5B at the ready. They walked past more Batarians either strapped into their work stations or floating in the

As they approached where they believed the helm to be Jerome radioed,

" **Chief, we're clear. We had a couple of survivors down in what must have been the Mess, but they opened fire almost immediately. Heads up, looks like they all have shields. They're pretty weak, nowhere near as strong as Elite shields, but they're there. Took about a quarter of a mag from an MA5 to break them. Or a single shotgun shell.** "

"Weapons? Plasma or projectile?" Thoughts ran through John's mind. Douglas was equipped with an MA5B assault rifle, firing 7.62 x 51mm Semi Armor Piercing rounds. It could take nearly three quarters of a 32 round magazine to break an Elite's shield, yet these broke much more quickly. Were these elite troopers, or did they all have shields? It was like the start of the Covenant war all over again. Lots of questions that needed answers.

" **Projectile from the looks of it, but it's difficult to say. Hyper velocity and some ridiculously small caliber**. **Caseless. Looked like they were packing some sort of machine pistol that don't pack much of a punch against our shields and overheated after a few seconds. We grabbed them, figure the orders on collecting alien tech still stands.** "

Chief acknowledged the message. In front of them was a locked bulkhead door with a glowing red hologram glaring out at them. "Cortana, can you get that door open? Alice, if the pilot is still alive, incapacitate and capture them. We need information, and we need to know why they attacked us." He got a green acknowledgment light from her, switching from his rifle to his magnum.

"One of these days you'll give me a challenge." Cortana's voice, as it always did, seemed to come from both inside his mind and from the helmets internal speakers. The hologram on the door flashed from red to green. "Open sesame."

Chief motioned for Alice to step forward. As she did the door slid open and the Chief braced for gunfire that never came. At first glance the small helm seemed empty as even Chiefs motion sensor was empty of hostiles. Chiefs eyes bored into the back of the pilots chair that sat at the center of the console.

He gave a silent hand gesture to cover him and placed a gauntleted hand on the back of the chair and spun it to face them, taking a quick step back to create distance. Strapped into the chair, digitigrade legs tucked to its chest, a pair of three fingered hands covering a deep red cloth that hid a helmeted head and neck sat an alien about the size of a human male trying to make it self as small as possible,

At the sight of the Spartans the alien threw up its hands, and shouted, "Easheto! Easheto! Ku prefsh! Ku prefsh…" The alien repeated the last two words in an almost whisper. With a full view of it's head, all the Spartans could see were a pair of glowing eyes and the shadow of a nose behind the cloudy visor.

Chief kept his pistol trained on the alien. After nearly thirty years of fighting the Covenant, he had never seen an alien surrender. No mercy was given, as none was expected. "Cortana, can you translate?"

"I've got a partial written translation, Chief. Spoken is a whole different story. I don't even know if it's the same language, but if I had to guess I'd go with 'Don't shoot, I surrender'."

"Cortana, what is it?" Alice asked over the helmets radio, her rifle trained on the alien, ready to fire in an instant.

"Can't tell, what with that helmet in the way, but I'm pretty sure it's not a Batarian. Legs and hands are different and the head is too short and narrow."

The Chief slowly took his left hand off his weapon. Palm facing up he lifted his hand before bringing it towards him. "Stand up, keep your hands up."

The alien hesitated, its eyes flicking between the two Spartans. It slowly lowered its legs to the deck, and as it brought one of its hands to its chest, the Chief and Alice tensed. It wasn't noticeable by the alien, the slight tightening of the Spartan's stances, as it tapped the harness' connector, causing to to snap open and allow it to stand. Chief brought his free hand up to the back of his head and held it there until the alien mimicked him and held its hands behind its head. Chief pointed down to the deck and motioned for it to turn, and waited while his order was silently followed. From a pouch the Chief drew out a device that had not changed in nearly five and a half centuries: Plastic zip-tie cuffs. He forced the aliens arms behind its back, ignoring the pained gasp that came from it.

"Cortana, grab the data. Jerome, Douglas, meet us back at the ingress point. Spirit actual, this Master Chief Sierra-117. Mission complete. Returning with one prisoner.". As they walked back to their ingress point, their prisoner being marched in front of them, the Chief looked down at the bodies of the aliens they passed. More aliens who attacked on sight. More aliens who seemed to want to kill Humans. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

* * *

Lieutenant Hannah Shepard ran her fingers along her hair as she rode the tram from the bridge to the port hanger. With a chime the tram came to a stop, its doors sliding open to allowing her to disembark into the segmented sections of the hangar that ran nearly half the length of the ship. The hangar was a hive of activity as men and women ran to and fro in a dance of organized chaos. After the attack by the unknown - no, the _Batarian_ ship, the Captain had ordered a number of the _Spirit_ 's Marine and Army contingents awakened from Cryo. Now mechanics, pilots, and other technicians scurried about making sure that the various craft and vehicles that allowed the _Spirit_ to truly do its job were in good working order.

She strode through it all till she reached her destination, one of a series of raised platforms that held the variety of the _Spirit's_ transport or fighter craft. At its top an orange strobe light flashed and a loud alarm blared as a Pelican rose from within it. As the alarms and flashing lights subsided the Pelican's ramp dropped, and she held her arms behind her back and tried to stand a little taller as the four Spartans marched down the ramp with their prisoner standing between them. The alien was smaller than she expected and seemed even smaller standing between the massive Human warriors. It was slender, and about as tall as the average man. It's head was currently covered by a black bag.

She took a deep breath through her nose and stepped forward into the Spartan's path. "Master Chief?" One of the Spartans, 117 by the faded white stenciling on the armor, paused and looked down at her. She couldn't help but gulp as she saw her reflection in the golden visor. Like the alien between them, she felt diminutive, the top of her head barely coming up to the Spartan's chest.

She did her best not to stutter as she spoke. "Welcome aboard. I have orders from Captain Cutter to escort you and the prisoner to the brig for interrogation and for you to pass off any translations or intelligence you gathered on the unknown ship. Follow me." With that she spun on her heel and marched off, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Well, she seems nice." Cortana quipped and John had to physically restrain himself from smacking the side of his helmet.

The Chief keyed the teams radio. "Jerome, take Alice and Douglass and get those weapons and gear from that ship down to the Armory. I'll take the prisoner to the brig with the lieutenant." The Chief turned and gestured with a sidewards nod of his head for the prisoner to walk on, the Chief following slightly behind as the rest of Red team went about off loading the Pelican.

The tram ride to the brig was taken in silence, as the Chief had never been one for small talk, and standing in a confined space with a 218 centimeter tall armored behemoth tended to intimidate most UNSC personnel into silence. Hannah held her arms behind her, hands clasped as she ran her thumbs over each other in a nervous tic. The Master Chief still had to be debriefed, yet already a thousand questions she wanted to ask him had gone through her head.

How had the war gone?

We're they winning?

What happened to the ship they found him on?

What had happened to her home world, Reach?

She half turned to the Spartan, mouth open as the question formed on her tongue, when the tram came to a stop and the door slid open. Her mouth shut with a click of her teeth. Her questions would have to wait as she turned back and walked out of the tram. The Master Chief followed behind her, a hand placed on the prisoners back forced it to walk.

The pair made their way to the brigs interrogation room, pausing before the two Marines guarding the door. With a nod from Shepard one of the Marines opened the door and the other took their alien prisoner by the arm and led it into the room. The room was fairly standard by Humanities standards for such things: Dark, with a single light in the center over a metal table and two chairs, shackles chained to the table glinted in the bright light. One of the walls was obviously made of mirrored glass.

The Chief and Shepard stepped into the viewing room next door. The lights in the room were dim, illuminated only by the light from a small holo-table. Standing at the window, staring at the alien that was being seated and shackled to the chair was Ellen Anders. Without even turning she to face them she spoke, "I hope you've figured out a way to talk to this thing, or this will be a very short interrogation, Master Chief."

The Chief stepped forward and drew the datapad from its pouch and laid it on the table next to Allers. He them reached up to the back of his head and pulled Cortana, inserting the chip into the holo-table's slot. Cortana's avatar sprung to life, casting the room in blue light. "I have an idea about that. That pad has on it a comprehensive encyclopedia with multiple language options. Similar to how Earth used to need multiple language options before English became the standard. It also has something else: A speech to text program. We place that pad in front of our guest over there, let it choose the language option and then use the pad to translate all questions and answers. I can then project that to you through your neural link."

Allers turned to face them, Cortana's blue light casting shadows on her face. "That could work. First things first, we need to know the whos and whys. Is this another Covenant, or were these independant actors? After that we'll have plenty of time to question it about anything else. Lieutenant, I believe that interrogations are your job, as we do not have any ONI interrogators on board. And if you can't get what we need, then I'm sure the Master Chief here will be able too."

Allers pick up the datapad and held it out to Shepard. "Clock's ticking, lieutenant. Let's hope this thing is more talkative than the Covenant."

Shepard took the pad, holding it in both hands as it felt heavy for some reason. She nodded and turned to step out the door, the Master Chief following behind her. She turned again and stepped through into the interrogation room. The alien, its arms shackled to the table, didn't even move at the _swoosh_ of the opening door, however the Marine that stood behind it turned his head. She sat down across from it, the Master Chief taking up position in the corner of the room behind the alien, partially hidden in the shadows. She looked at the pad, the strange letters of the various alien languages stared back at her as she placed the tablet on the table between her and the alien. She gave a nod and the Marine pulled the bag off the alien's head and stepped around the table to take up position by the door.

The alien still wore its hood and helmet, from which its glowing eyes shone out. Shepard didn't know what to expect, every alien Humanity had met had tried to kill it. Granted, this one had as well, but here in front of her it made no attempts. In fact by the way it sat there, it seemed as if it was afraid of her. It's eyes were wide in shock, little could she know that to the alien it was staring at the impossible. She reached forward with a hand and pushed the datapad to within reach of the alien. She watched its eyes follow her movement before setting on the pad. She held her breath at this moment of truth.

The alien's eyes flicked between the pad and her, and after a few moments of silence it reached forward, a slender finger pressed one of the language options. ' _Here we go_.' Shepard thought as she cleared her through with a cough before speaking. "Can you understand me?" Her words, translated, appeared on the screen.

The glowing eyes of the alien shot up to her. " **Yes, I can. Who are you people**?"

Cortana did her job, the alien's words were projected in English onto her retina via her neural net. Shepard lightly shook her head, "I'll be asking the questions here. Answer mine, and perhaps we'll answer some of yours. Now what are your people called?"

" **I am...I'm a Quarian**." In an instant the Codex page on Quarians was sent to Aller's station in the observation room, giving her all the information on the species she would need to pass along to Shepard.

"Are you male or female?"

" **Male**."

"What is your name?"

" **Rumi Gorna nar Quib Quib.** "

"Why did your ship attack us?"

" **Because my captain is a bosh'tet.** " The last word didn't translate, but Cortana's note scrolling across her vision made clear the spirit of the untranslatable word. An insult, and a serious one at that. Shepard wished the ad hoc translation system could infer inflection in the alien's words.

"And was your captain a Quarian?"

" **No, he was a Batarian, nearly as stupid and cruel as a Krogan. He thought that because your ship didn't have any Element Zero, then it wouldn't have barriers, or weapons strong enough to beat us. Ships without Element Zero can't beat ships that have it. Guess that's not the case anymore.** "

"Element Zero? What is that?" Once again Cortana brought up the requisite page for Allers. Unlike the page on Quarians, the page on the atomic element was a rabbit hole of information. As she read, her eyes grew wider and wider at the implications of such an element.

Meanwhile in the interrogation room the Quarian had not stopped answering questions. " **Element Zero? It's a rare atomic particle that has something to do with Dark Energy. It can raise or lower the mass of an object based on the electric charge run through it.** "

Shepard blinked. She had studied the periodic table like anyone else, and while Humanity had discovered or even created new atomic elements, they had never heard of one that had anything to do with Dark Energy. It should be impossible. "So because our ship had no… Element Zero, your captain ordered the attack?"

" **Yes. Our ships have thin armor, we rely on our kinetic barriers for protection. More armor means a heavier weight, means a larger drive core and more Element Zero is needed to reduce the mass of the ship to get it to Faster Than Light speeds.** " The shackles on the table clinkled as the Quarian seemed to want to talk with his hands. " **No Element Zero signature means no drive core, means no kinetic barriers. No mass driver for weapons.** "

Shepard thought on that, wishing she had a pen or something to flip between her fingers. "You seem very knowledgeable, what were you doing on that ship?"

" **I was a prisoner, and a crew member.** " Rumi hung his head, ashamed. " **I was planning on bringing that ship back to the Flotilla as my Pilgrimage gift. I didn't get very far. I had debt, and that bosh'tet was willing to pay them off… in exchange for my ship. Otherwise I'd be stuck on [UNTRANSLATABLE: PLACE NAME/CLOSEPROX: OMEGA/END] till I paid them off. I'd stay on board, work on the engines or pilot the ship if the captain was feeling nice.** "

Hannah leaned over the table, having gotten the Quarian talking she pressed on. "So you're not part of any government or military?" She watched the Quarian give a very Human shake of his head.

"Where was your ship berthed out of?"

" **Berthed? What is that?** "

Hannah's brow furrowed. It seemed like the translations were missing words on both sides. "Where did your ship launch from? Where did your captain take you when you weren't out being a pirate?"

Rumi suddenly became jittery and nervous, " **I-I-I never said that I was a pirate!** " The shackles now sounded like they came out of the Christmas Carol as Rumi's hands were going a mile-a-minute. From the shadows behind him a green armored hand shot out and gripped his shoulder like an iron vice. Rumi's movements stopped as quickly as they started, his shoulders hunched up as he slowly looked up and behind him. He could see himself reflected in the gold visor of the Spartan. How still had it been that he didn't even know it was there? Was it even alive, or was it a machine like the Geth?

Hannah held up a hand, "That's enough, Master Chief." The Chief let go of the Quarian and stepped back into the shadows, completely unnerving the already nervous Quarian. "Now… piracy or no, where did your ship launch from? Will you tell us that?"

Rumi looked at her in silence, bringing his hands close to him, " **I have answered your questions. Answer mine. Who are you people?** "

Hannah paused, her eyes flicked behind the Quarian to the Spartan. The Spartans were Humanity's greatest warriors, sworn to defend Earth and her colonies to the very end, and at any cost. If these Quarians knew about the Covenant, they might know about their genocidal crusade against Humanity. But he said that they had not met any advanced civilization that didn't use this eezo, so it was highly unlikely that these Quarians had made contact with the Covenant.

"We're Humans, of the United Nations Space Command."

" **Huuu-maanss.** " Rumi tried the name. Nodding to himself, " **Alright, Human, what do you plan to do if I tell you where my ship's 'berth' is?** "

Hannah knew exactly what the Captain would want to do. Land troops, assault their base of operations and wipe them out. The UNSC had a very clear cut policy when it came to pirates. But she hesitated to tell Rumi that. "Do you care what happens to them?"

Rumi shook his head, " **No, they are all pirates and slavers. I was just another Suit Rat to them. No, I want them gone. I want to go** _ **home**_ **.** "

"You would turn on your companions so quickly?" Hannah was quite stunned. Even the lowest Grunt would die before turning on the Covenant, as the UNSC had seen countless times, yet this Quarian did so without hesitation. Yet she understood his motivation. She too wanted to go home, back to Reach. "We too want to go home. You see, Quarian, we've been out here for a long time trying to get back home. Except we don't even know if our home is still there." She stood and walked around the table, letting her fingers trail along the edge. She came to a stop next to Rumi and bent down at the waist till she was level with him.

"Thirty years ago we were attacked by aliens, a religious Covenant with technology far beyond our own seeking to destroy us all." The words that every Human knew, the first words spoken to Humanity by the Covenant, whispered through her mind. " _Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we are their instrument_." She spoke the words aloud for Rumi to hear. "They wiped out colony after colony. By the time we became stranded out here billions had already died. Do you understand, Rumi? We won't let that happen again. And if we have to carve a path through every pirate base and ship between us and home so we can warn the rest of Humanity, so be it. The end justifies the means."

If the Quarian hadn't been wearing a helmet, Hannah could have seen how pale and shaken he had become. Everything about the situation started making sense to him. The size of the ship, it's weapons and heavy armor. All were there to fight this Covenant. " **The ship's navigational data, fifth entry back, 2nd planet, Southern hemisphere.** " He rattled off the longitude and latitude from memory. His stomach felt as if he had swallowed a rock as he thought back to his history lessons as a child on the Quib Quib. The Rachni, the Krogan. What new kind of monsters had his ship set loose upon the galaxy?


	4. Student and Mentor

**Hey guys, I'm back! So some good news and some bad news. Bad news first: My computer died about a month ago. Air conditioner fell out of my window while I was at work and sprayed it with water. Good news, all it needed was a new battery which is now installed. What that means, however, is the next chapter might take a little longer to write. I've got the fic on google docs now, so if this happens again I can just keep writing on my phone. More good news, I remembered that I have a copy of the Halo Encyclopedia, which makes finding info so much easier than digging online. So, good on me from a decade ago for buying that.**

 **Now for some review answers.**

 **Blaze1992: The SOF will be able to make pretty much every unit/vehicle it could in the games. I might not use all of them, but the ship can make them.**

 **Christinedbadia5: Yes, Chief will have his own private conversation with Red team. As for Infinity, not for a long time, if ever. As for Serina, I gave my reason at the start of chapter 1. She essentially turned herself "off" because I feel like the 7 year limit is based on operational time, not overall passage thereof.**

 **Cheerfullygrim: It's more a scare tactic to get him to talk. IDK I was a Combat Engineer, not Psy Ops.**

 **Reclusiarch Grimaldus: I was actually going to have it be a massive byte size. Like, more than petaflop. Until my more computer savvy housemate informed me that Wikipedia is barely a terabyte in size, while the internet is massive, like the extranet would be. So the Codex is small, but requires a lot of translation.**

 **Mr. Dumbstruck: ;)))) On the nose.**

* * *

Saren Arterius stood on the bridge of the Salarian Union Vessel _Maleovani_ , a Salarian Special Tasks Group frigate, in his black and grey armor. His clawed hands clasped behind his back as he watched the Salarian crew work as they exited the Mass Relay into the Osun system of the Hourglass Nebula. The ship, despite being operated and owned by the STG, was flagged as hailing from Omega, giving them the perfect cover for which to operate without implicating the Citadel. It was, as he was learning, one of many such ships, corporations, and mercenary groups secretly run by the STG.

His face itched from the removal of his colonial tattoos, and he resisted the urge to scratch. Saren felt that, as a SPECTRE, he could not show such allegiance. No, he would suffer being a 'bare face'. His loyalty was to the Turian people, not to any one colony. He distracted himself with the thought of how he had gotten to this point, as it was hard to believe that only a few months ago he had been hunting down terrorists and Separatists as a part of the Turian Hierarchy's Blackwatch when he had gotten the orders: Link up with a Council SPECTRE, assist them as needed to complete objectives. Simple.

He had done exactly that, ruthlessly an efficiently. So much so that he had caught the interest of the SPECTRE to the point where they had offered to mentor him. Guide him down the path of becoming a SPECTRE himself. He had all but jumped at the opportunity. Saren had but one mission in his life: The survival and advancement of Turiankind. He would sacrifice anyone, and anything, to ensure that. As a Council SPECTRE, he could ensure that that mission would always be his priority.

He was nearing the end of his evaluation after months of missions. Raids, assassinations, VIP captures, intelligence gathering, political negotiations. As for now, this mission was simply to repay a debt, something his mentor stressed. Debts paid made things simple, and could on occasion be brought around to others owing you debts. Which always made the job easier.

He was brought back to the present when he heard his name called by one of the crew, "Lieutenant Arterius, the captain needs you for the mission brief. Please meet him in the briefing room."

He nodded and walked off towards the briefing room in the center of the ship. There he found captain Reskol waiting for him with the now familiar sight of his SPECTRE mentor. "Captain. Vasir."

"Good of you to finally join us, Saren. We'll be dropping out of FTL soon and the captain here wants to go over the mission… again." Vasir cast an annoyed glance at the STG captain.

The Asari SPECTRE stood only a few centimeters short of 2 meters, her face which seemed to always have a mischievous smirk on it, was dotted by purple facial tattoos. She was decked out in her signature look: Serrice heavy armor, colored a deep blue, with an M-11 Wraith folded at the small of her back. Tela Vasir, like all Asari, was a biotic. However what set her apart from most of her sisters was that she was a brawler. She'd charge in, using her biotics to close the distance on her targets before blasting them with that shotgun of hers. Saren had seen the high risk tactics work all too often the past few months.

"My apologies. I was watching the bridge crew work. Shall we, captain?" Saren gave the STG captain a respectful bow of his head.

Captain Reskol was possibly the most nondescript Salarian Saren had ever seen. Which came as no surprise seeing as he was a member of the STG. He may not have been a Turian, but the captain wasn't one to shirk away from adversity, something Saren could respect. "Yes, let us. First off I wish to once again thank the Council for assisting the STG in this matter. It may not seem like it, but missions such as this one are of great importance to the safety of Citadel space."

He brought up an image of the base site, taken by an STG probe less than 24 hours prior from the planet Daratar in the Faryar system of the Hourglass nebula. The base was fairly standard. A central building surrounded by six sniper towers and a pair of rocket turrets situated in a wide, flat plain. Off to one side an area had been cleared of rocks and other obstructions to allow for the landing and takeoff of small space craft. All on an inhospitable rock that despite having a thin oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, was far too cold for a colony and lacked the natural resources to make it viable to investors. Thus it had been left for pirates to infest.

"Now, as you know we are here on a destabilization and intelligence gathering mission. Our goal is to wipe out this pirate base, here on the second planet of the system. The leader of these pirates is one Cassius Gendoulus." With a swipe of his omni tool an orange hologram of a Turian appeared before them. His dark face marked by green tattoos.

"The STG believes that he is the orchestrator of at least 3 raids on Citadel colonies, and is organizing his largest yet. He has gathered together a number of ships, as many as 16 combat ships, along with support and landing craft, mercenaries and troops promised from allies amongst the Terminus systems numbering in the thousands.

We are not sure which colony he plans to attack, but we have have narrowed it down to a trio of colonies along the border. Unfortunately, with how close these systems are to the Terminus, the Citadel cannot simply park three fleets there and wait without possibly lighting off a war. We need to find out which one exactly it is before he can launch his attack. And if we get lucky, he'll be there for us to capture or kill. Get in, get the information, and kill everyone there. Simple." He brought the image of the base back.

"As far as we can tell their only ship not taking part in the attack, an old Guardian class Hierarchy Frigate, has been out running pirate actions for the past two weeks and isn't expected back for another few days." The Guardian class frigate, once the mainstay of the Turian fleets, had been retired nearly 40 years ago. The ships had strong shield generators and powerful engines which made them effective in Varren pack formations, massing their combined firepower to take on larger and more powerful ships. If the ship returned earlier than expected and caught the Salarian vessel in the planets gravity well, then they could be in trouble. The Salarians built their ships for scouting, not for the stand up fights that the Turians built theirs for. The pirates had more than likely pulled it out of the shipbreaking yards on Korlus, or some similar planet that collected the junk of the galaxies navies.

"Saren, you and SPECTRE Vasir will lead the assault force. There are multiple sniper towers surrounding the base perimeter, along with two rocket towers. The _Maleovani_ will make an in atmosphere bombing run to clear the rockets, but your teams will be responsible for the snipers. Make sure there are no survivors. From there we will breach -"

"Captain!" the voice of one of the bridge crew came over the briefing room speakers. "We have new images from the probe. You're going to want to see this, sir."

"Bring it on screen, Commander." Reskol ordered as the three stared at the new image in front of them. The previous image had showed the long shadows of the pair of rocket turrets and the six towers that surrounded the squat base, now the screen showed the base covered in thick black smoke that poured out of the turrets. One of the towers was knocked on its side and the probe's camera could even pick out bodies littering the ground around the towers.

Saren and Vasir shared a glancing look as the captain spoke, "This changes nothing. Lieutenant Saren, SPECTRE, secure the site and find what evidence you can as to who did this. If there are any survivors, eliminate them."

"Understood, captain." Saren said before following Vasir out of the briefing room. "What do you think, Vasir?" He asked as they moved down the stairs to the small armory where the mixed assault force of Salarians and Turians were gathered.

"Like the good captain said, nothing changes. Except this'll be a lot less fun."

* * *

 **[Planetside]**

The shuttle they took down was cramped, to say the least. Even with the assault force split between two of the boxy shuttles there wasn't much room to maneuver. The craft rocked as it entered the planets atmosphere, muting the murmured conversations within. Saren was now standing next to one of the shuttles doors, face to face with Vasir. "Any idea who it might have been?"

Vasir shrugged, "Could be anyone. Rival mercs, Huntresses, your people. Fuck, could have been another SPECTRE. Won't know till we get down there."

They spent the rest of the descent in silence until the pilot warned they were coming in for their landing. Saren turned to the rest of his team, a collection of hand-picked Turian soldiers and Salarian specialists and gave the order to don their helmets. With a hiss of escaping air the shuttle door slid open and Saren dropped to the ground, weapon up and ready as the rest followed him. The sandy ground crunched beneath his boots as he cautiously moved up. The shuttle had dropped them 100 yards from the perimeter of the base, a precaution in case whatever had attacked the pirates was hiding in the smoke. The suits filters did an excellent job of filtering out the acrid smells of smoke and whatever explosives the attackers had used.

Saren had advanced about 50 meters before he came upon the first evidence of who may have struck here. He knelt in the dirt as the rest of the teams continued forward to sweep the area, a gauntleted finger tracing around the shape of a boot print. As he looked around he saw five sets of prints, spread out in a defensive semi-circle, as well as two sets of truly massive prints that must have come from some sort of mechanized support. Behind the prints the dirt was swept out from the jet wash of the craft that had borne the attackers. He looked up, his eyes casting around as Vasir walked up behind him, the heavily armored SPECTRE taking a knee and bringing her helmet close to his so they could speak without using the radios. "All the bodies belong to the pirates. A couple of them even had small bounties on them. You find anything?"

Saren gestured to the boot prints, "Too long and narrow to be Batarian, too wide and varied in size to be Asari. And these…" He pointed at the massive prints, "I've never seen a mech with that foot pattern."

"So… what? You think this could be a new species? If it was we'd have seen a ship in orbit, or caught the Eezo signature. They wouldn't just hit and run." Vasir shook her head, this couldn't be the work of Huntresses. Huntresses didn't launch air strikes on heavily fortified positions. They'd have lured the pirates out, hit them with snipers or ambushes. Standard procedure when facing a larger force.

"Not unless they thought these weren't pirates." Saren stood and walked forward, following the path of imprints the boots left in the dirt. A glint of light on the ground caught his attention and knelt again. A small cylinder, made of some brass alloy, shined half buried in the dirt. He turned it over in his hand. One end was open while the other was capped, a tiny dent in its center with small indecipherable runes ringing the bottom of the capped end.

 **7.62 x 51 mm**

As he looked around again he saw more and more of the brass casings scattered around, many in shallow piles or spread out in a line. ' _Did their weapons not use the Mass Effect_?' He thought as he dropped the casing back into the sand.

He stood and moved towards the fallen tower. As he neared he could see the various holes piercing the metal, grouped together in tight bunches. "Whomever this was, whatever weapons they used, they were accurate. Disciplined." He looked at the base of the tower which had been blasted apart by some sort of missile or rocket, causing it to topple. The sniper must have survived the fall, and attempted to take cover behind the fallen tower.

"So not mercs, Huntresses, or SPECTREs. Great. Come on, let's look inside. Maybe one of them bought it, and we'll get a body to investigate." Vasir stepped away, walking towards the base proper as she called out for everyone to stack up at the door. Saren turned away from the fallen towers and followed Vasir to the door.

With a nod from the SPECTRE one of the Turians hit the green access button and the door slid open. Saren was the first through the door and thus first to see the body embedded into the opposite wall, it's legs dangling off the ground and torso almost doubled over. Saren slowly walked up to the body as the rest of the team filled the antechamber, covering the far door. The body belonged to a Batarian, it's shotgun dangling from its fingertips. It's chest had been caved in and rust brown blood dripped down into a semi-coagulated puddle. Judging by the imprint in the armor it belonged to one of the mechs Saren suspected the attackers had brought with them. He turned and watched a Salarian scan a dead Turian who laid next to the door he had entered from, the Turian's visor had been smashed and the back of it blown out, gore splashed against the wall at head height. He looked further and saw a third body slumped against the far wall next to the door leading to the main area, another Turian whose chest armor was filled with holes that leaked blue blood. Saren's eyes drifted to the floor, searching. He saw a small pile of the brass casings that had rolled to the wall.

"Enter the next room. Follow your orders." He growled out. A fireteam of Turians moved to the door and took position. In one fluid movement they swept through the door, quickly followed by the rest as they gave the all clear. Saren and Vasir walked in together, eyes scanning the room. More brass covered the floor, the still bodies of the pirate defenders lay where they had fallen as the assault force swept through the cavernous room and around the crates of various stolen loot. One body in particular stood out: An Asari leaning against a crate with her left arm severed below the elbow and her skull caved in by some sort of small bladed weapon.

Blood pooled under the bodies. Asari and Turian blue, Batarian rust red, Salarian green, but one color stood out to him. A splash of deep red, far too dark to be Batarian blood. It arced outwards behind a container, a bullet hole in the floor nearby told of a sniper shot that found flesh. "Vasir, here. Red blood."

The two knelt to examine the blood stain, Vasir bringing up her Omni tool to run a scan. "Yep. Doesn't match with any known Council encountered species. We have some unknowns on our hands."

Saren ignored her, looking around the immediate vicinity. A gunshot wound should have left more blood, yet there were no discarded bandages. No small pools of blood as the wounded fighter was administered to. No blood trail if they were dragged away to be cared for elsewhere. He looked behind him, and his eyes caught a shadow on shadow underneath the lip of a stack of crates. A dark grey metal cylinder with a cone like bottom and a long prong like device at the other end had rolled, or been tossed, underneath the crate.

He reached out, the three fingers of his hand struggling for a moment get a good enough grip to pull it out from under the crate. Now freed he turned it over in his hands, looking over a large white label covered in more of the strange runes, partially covered by a five fingered glove print stamped in that same red blood. His eyes flicked between two symbols, one a pair of eel or snake like creatures winding up a winged staff and the other an avian with spread wings above a globe. He ran a finger along the prong, noticing a small hole in the trapezoidal end that was covered in a hardened foam. The Citadel had been trying for hundreds of years to achieve an effective foam based wound sealant for even a single species without much to show for it. Yet here in his hands was the obvious evidence that this unknown species had succeeded where the Citadel had failed.

"SPECTRE, Lieutenant! Up here." The call came from one of the Turians sweeping the second floor. Saren stepped around the crate, the grey cylinder still in his hand. He looked up, seeing the soldier standing at the railing, waving for them to come up. He and Vasir walked to their left, to the doorway that held the stairs to the second floor. They passed a Salarian slumped against the wall at the base of the steps and a Turian laying face down halfway up, the blood trail clearly showing that he had slid partway down after being shot. They trotted up the stairs to find the Turian who had called them standing next to the body of a Turian with dark plates and green facial markings. "Our target, sir, ma'am."

Cassius Gendoulus' arms were at his sides, twisted and broken at wrong angles, a sniper rifle lay nearby with its barrel bent like a piece of rebar. The Turian's armor looked like someone had taken a pile driver to it. Cracks and large fist shaped dents covered the sides of the armor, the chest caved in. Saren and Vasir stared at the body of their target in silence for what seemed like an eternity until Saren broke the silence. "We should finish the mission and make our report. Before whoever did this comes back."

Vasir's eyes slid to the side, her voice taking on a mocking tone. "You scared, Saren?"

Saren didn't even look at her, keeping his eyes on the dead Turian in front of him. "Cautious. Whoever this is, they assaulted this place with a squad and two mechs. We predicted that we'd need at least platoon strength to take this base, with predicted 15% casualties. These unknowns seem to have done it with just a single injury. They are obviously skilled infantryman. I'd rather our first contact with this species not result in a firefight. One I'm not sure we'd win."

Vasir responded with a grunt and turned away, walking down the hall to the door at the end. The door slid open at her approach and the Salarian specialist sitting at the console didn't even look up. "Well, what have we got?" She asked, walking around the table to stand behind him.

"The information we're looking for is heavily encrypted, I can't crack it here. This guy was seriously paranoid about protecting this data. We need to pass this off to Section II." The Salarian frowned as the computer spat back an error message that his shunt program had failed to break through the encrypted firewalls.

"The only other possibly important thing is a record of them contacting their ship to checkout a strange signal in the Ploitari system. It wasn't on any of the usual emergency bands, so it could have been from our unknowns. Could this have been an ambush, perhaps?"

Saren shook his head, "No, an ambush only makes sense if these unknowns knew these pirates were out here."

"So what are you suggesting, that these unknowns responded to the same signal, encountered the pirate's ship - a last gen Turian frigate, _beat it_ , and then somehow tracked it back here where they launched an assault?" Vasir raised a painted eyebrow as she looked across the room at Saren.

"If they incapacitated the ship, got into its navigational banks…" Saren started to say before Vasir interrupted him.

"We both saw those casings, Saren. This species hasn't even figured out how to use the Mass Effect in small arms, if they know about it all all. There is no way a single ship without the Mass Effect could beat one with it. It would take a small fleet! Do you not remember what happened to the Corotans?" The room had grown a silent tension that could be felt between the mentor and student. Vasir stood up straight and walked back around the desk to stand face to face with Saren.

"We need to get back to Citadel space and crack this encryption _before_ they launch their raid. That's our mission and I won't delay that and risk lives chasing after a species that probably just stumbled onto the Mass Effect. Now, get your men back to the shuttles."

Saren could feel the rage bubbling inside him, but through sheer force of will he kept his features impassive as he spoke, "And if this was a test?"

"A test?" She laughed, a cold laugh. "You never do give up, do you?"

"Wasn't that part of why you wanted me to join the SPECTRES? I believe your exact words were, 'Grabs onto a mission like a Varren to a hunk of meat. Tenacious to the very end.' What if this was a test of weapons and ship capability, tactics. The only way they would have known these pirates were here, was if they got the ships logs. If they got that, then they more than likely have a copy of the Codex as well. Which means they have all the knowledge of our galaxy once they can translate it. You say they're aren't advanced enough, but did your people not say the same about the Rachni? The Krogan? Are you willing to risk that all again?"

Saren watched as Vasir's jaw worked before she spoke, "Alright, we'll check it out. But if it looks like a trap, we're not waiting around to find out. Get your men back to the shuttles." She brought up her Omni tool and keyed the radio. "Captain Reskol, hook us into a comm buoy and send the nav point I'm transmitting. I want reinforcements on the way before we plot a course for that signal. SPECTRE authority."

With a triumphant nod Saren turned and rallied his men, leading them back to the shuttles. In less than half an hour they were back on the _Maleovani_ and jumping to FTL. Saren spent the next few hours pacing about the bridge, drawing glares from the crew.

Who were this new species, who didn't use the Mass Effect yet beat a force who did? It shouldn't be possible. He remembered the species that Vasir had mentioned, the Corotans. A species that had managed the most basic of Eezo engines to allow them FTL space flight, but yet still used simple magnetic accelerators for their ship weapons and personal arms. They had begun their expansion into the stars only to be conquered by one of the Terminus' various empires. Their ships hadn't stood a chance, as their weapons rarely had the energy to best even a Frigates kinetic barriers, succeeding only when they ganged up in large numbers. Their resistance had been futile in the end and they were conquered before the Council even knew they existed. When the Council found out, they had been outraged. One of the few treaties with the Terminus systems that they actually tended to follow was an agreement to notify the Council upon any first contact with a new species.

Perhaps Vasir was right, and this had been a small fleet working together, instead of a single ship. He was brought out of his thoughts by an alarm announcing their exit from FTL. They would be dropping approximately a million kilometers from the signals source. Neither the Captain nor Vasir were willing to risk being any closer.

"Sensors, run an active scan." Captain Reskol sat in his crash couch, eyes flicking over the data readout.

"Sir, sensors are picking up three ship profiles at a million kicks. One of them matches the profile for a Guardian class frigate. The other two do not match any known profiles. Scans place them at 240 meters and…" The sensor officers words caught in his throat. "Two point five kilometers, sir."

"That's impossible. The Destiny Ascension is the largest ship in the galaxy, and it's one and a half kilometers long!" Vasir, who had been leaning against a bulkhead, stomped over to the sensor officer to read the incoming data herself.

"The scanners don't lie, SPECTRE. Mark the larger unknown as Alpha, the other Bravo. Eezo readings?" Reskol was now standing, rubbing his chin as more data came in.

"Only from the frigate, sir. The unknown ships show no signs of element zero."

The captain closed his eyes for a moment before letting out a hefty sigh. "Helm, bring us to 100,000 kilometers from the unknowns. Prep First Contact packages, when we hit the our demarcation line, hail the unknowns on all open channels. SPECTRE…" He turned to Vasir, "As a representative of the Council, you will be responsible for making First Contact until a proper envoy can be dispatched."

Vasir sneered at the captain. "And as an Asari, I can meld with them to assist with translating, is that right Captain?"

"Good, you already know your job. I was afraid that I might have to explain it to you." Reskol cooly responded. There was a slight shudder of the deck below their feet as the ship accelerated to bring them closer.

Vasir moved to stand next to Saren, crossing her arms over her chest. "This can't be the ones who attacked our pirates. No Eezo, no FTL. These ships are too far away from the base to be our culprits."

Saren said nothing, but his mandibles betrayed his frustration. This didn't make any sense.

"Captain! Alpha is accelerating away from us." The call came from the helm, "We're faster than them, sir. We'll catch up. Don't know where their going, but they're angled out of system."

"And what of Bravo?"

"Staying still, sir. We're coming up on its rear, but scans show it cold. No engine activity or power."

' _Where are they going_?' Saren thought to himself as he stepped up to the helm, leaning over the Salarian as he watched the ship slowly grow in the window as they approached the ship at its four O'clock position. He turned, his fingers dancing across the holographic keyboard at one of the stations next to the helm to bring up an image of Alpha from the forward facing cameras. He zoomed in as much as he could until he found what he was looking for. An image of an avian like creature above a globe, the same runes and symbols from the canister of foam lined the side of the ship near the fore in what could only be a name.

 _ **CFV-88**_

 _ **UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE**_

"How much further?" He asked the helmsman, his eyes still on the image as he drank in the details of the ship. Grey, angled armor, bristling with turrets and gun emplacements, the ship itself looking like a massive floating rifle. This had to be the unknowns. Could it have been possible that they had found a way to achieve Faster Than Light travel without the use of Element Zero? No, it went against all laws of physics. It was impossible. Wasn't it?

"Under 300,000 kilometers till hail distance. We'll be there in a couple of min- Wait, what is- Radiation spike in front of Alpha! Spatial anomaly detected!" The helmsman shouted, alarms blaring about the bridge as Saren snapped his head up from the screen to the window. Kilometers in front of Alpha was the strangest sight he had seen in his nineteen years of life. At first glance it looked like a small black hole, pitch black except for the violet-blue tendrils that swirled about it. He was jostled as Vasir and Reskol pushed into the helm in order to see.

"Hail them now!" Reskol shouted, keeping his large Salarian eyes on the anomaly as the response came: their hails were not being answered. Either the fleeing ship used a different means of communication then the _Maleovani's_ , as the Rachni had thousands of years prior, or they were simply being ignored as it made its escape.

The watched together, mouths agape as the anomaly grew till it was large enough to swallow Alpha whole. The watched as the alien ship entered the anomaly, watching as it collapsed behind the ship, leaving not a trace besides a small burst of radiation that quickly dissipated. The bridge was quiet except for the ever present hum of the ship. It was Vasir who broke the silent shock of the crew.

"What. The. Fuck."


End file.
